


Tired

by lover_of_blue_roses



Series: Neil/Everyone [3]
Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Bedsharing, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Platonic Cuddling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:08:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27018562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lover_of_blue_roses/pseuds/lover_of_blue_roses
Summary: Ringo taking care of a sleepy Neil, and Neil doesn't want him to leave.
Relationships: Neil Aspinall/Ringo Starr
Series: Neil/Everyone [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1888579
Kudos: 5





	Tired

**Author's Note:**

> doc: all i want is neil taking care of sleepy ringo  
> me, an illiterate fool: ringo taking care of a sleepy neil, sure

Neil was wandering around like an undead. He was beyond exhausted, he and Mal had to absolutely run themselves rag to make all that mess work out. The venues signed the Beatles contract, which had all the info they needed, to say nothing of the fact that everyone and their mother couldn't stop talking about the Beatles. But no, once again they show up and get told 'What do you mean electric guitars? Three of them? We don't have the power for that.'

Finding a generator last minute, an alternative way of hooking the rig up, and so on, all while the screaming fans echoed from outside. Delays were unacceptable, what would people think? What would become of the Beatles' reputation? If Brian hadn’t single handedly crafted the Beatles into these Rock Gods and the most famous musicians in the world, Neil might actually resent the man. But he was ambitious, much like the rest of the band, and Neil really couldn't fault him for that, especially not when he managed such phenomenal results. 

Still, it meant that Neil had something like 10 hours of sleep in the last two days, which is to say nothing of all the running around and heavy lifting he'd had to do. God, he wanted an assistant for the next tour, with how big the band was. He deserved it.

But for now, he just wants peace and quiet. To unwind, as he loves to, with some tea and a tightly wrapped blanket. As soft and caring as Paul and John can be individually in the quiet hours of the night, when exhausted or sated, right now they are on another songwriting binge and are only keying each other up as they work. And he knows he's getting between the two of them and their gorgeous song writing, being as productive as they can while on tour.

No, if he wants peace and quiet, he's far more likely to find it in Ringo and George's shared room, especially as George is out. An 'interview' and a date with a starlet. Neil opened the hotel door to see exactly what he hoped for, just Ringo being calm and quiet. Ringo looked up from his letter when he saw Neil and smiled, waving, "Hey, Nelly." Already the roadie could feel a weight being lifted off of his shoulders. He was off the clock here.

"Hi," Neil spoke softly, not wanting to interrupt the tranquil environment, "Do you mind if I settle down here?" Ringo just shook his head, before turning his attention back to whatever he was reading- fanmail, of course. Neil found his way to the kettle. As the water boiled, he set out biscuits on a plate and found a large blanket perfect for his purposes.

Slowly, as though it was heavy armour, he stripped off his formal wear. The tie, the jacket, his shoes, even cufflinks. Brian wouldn't have anyone, even just of the entourage in anything less than the best. Neil must agree, nothing fits like a tailored suit. Still it's good to be free of all that. He unbuttoned his top buttons and finally can swallow without anything pressing down on his throat.

Just as the kettle whistled, he poured himself a cuppa and slumped over to the couch. It was a leather monstrosity that seemed to have been overstuffed and if he sat on it, it would surely consume him whole. In short, an absolute dream. "You mind?" Neil asked, rather rhetorically, as he placed down the saucer and the plate of biscuits. There was nowhere else comfortable to sit in this sardine can, and Neil didn't want to end up lying down on a bed.

"Nah," Ringo answered, casually taking a biscuit like a tax. Neil smiled and sank into the couch, sighing as he sank into it. "Telly?"

"If you don't mind," Neil almost groaned like an old man as he pried himself out of the couch long enough to turn it on, find a channel, and set the volume. Anything to keep his mind calm, be it the telly or the post. He's put on some mindless american show that's sure to be interrupted shortly with commercials. 

Neil wrapped the blanket around himself tightly, leaving only one hand out to serve himself, before settling down. He wriggles his legs until he can get vaguely comfortable although he's concerned about overbalancing to a side especially without his arms to settle himself. "It's cold at this one today," Ringo remarked about this hotel. It's not touring Europe in winter, but he's right- the room *does* have a bite to it.

Neil turned to look, unsure what exactly the comment meant, or if he was just thinking about it, but then Ringo was scooching towards him, invading his personal space, until they were thigh-to-thigh. Neil turned sharply to look back at the telly, pretending he didn't feel the warmth of the drummer seeping into him. God, Ringo felt so comfortable. It wasn't just a question of body type, although he was soft compared to the extremely skinny George, it was Ringo's attitude.

To John, cuddling with a man was still a tense and awkward affair. Neil's not sure if it's more the showing of affection, or it being a man that has him so tripped up. And while Paul is romantic with girls, he doesn't really feel the need for that with them, being almost cold and exact in what he wanted. Not that Neil minded, as most often that was orgasms, something he was all too happy to be getting.

Still it was nice, beyond nice, to sit like this. Just enjoy the rare peace and quiet, insulated in this little cocoon that was Ringo's room. There wasn't anything particular to lull him to sleep, the movie was some spaghetti western full of action. But Ringo's warmth and the long, long days he'd been having were enough. He didn't mean to, he would never impose without permission, but his head grew so heavy that he found it slumping down. The fact that he was using Ringo as a pillow didn't register in his mind as Morpheus pulled him under. 

He felt his body be tugged, not harshly, just as though trying to get him to move over. What was- Ah, he was being lifted. Ringo was surprisingly strong for his stature and didn't falter as he carried Neil bridal style. Oh, Neil was somehow surprised to find himself being laid down on his bed. Of course, and he'd be far more comfortable here. Wouldn't be waking up with a stiff neck or a crick in his back.

But it also meant- Neil reached out without thinking about it. He blinked up to see Ringo's beautiful baby blues. He tugged at the sleeve, dazed and foggy, but still sure of himself. "Stay, please."

And Ringo- his whole face transformed with the most magnificent of smiles. Not to mention genuine- some arsehole photographer had said it wasn't photogenic of a smile. Brian had very nearly thrown hands, and then made it extremely clear that not only would the Beatles not be hiring his services again, but that Brian would do everything in his power- which was not inconsiderable, what with the Beatles dominance- to make sure no one else hired him either. Ringo had been down the whole week despite the boys best attempts to cheer him up. But Neil could see nothing wrong with it, for it was true and full of joie de vivre.

Hopefully, Neil would be seeing a lot of it in the future, as Ringo was slipping into the bed with him. The drummer didn't keep any distance between them, slotting behind him like spoons in a drawer, his arms coming around him. It was held like that, warm and treasured, that Neil easily drifted back off into sleep.


End file.
